


sleight of hand and twist of fate

by sleeplessmiles



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessmiles/pseuds/sleeplessmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma wants May to start training her in self-defense – more than just the basics, this time – but May’s a little worried about Jemma’s frame of mind before their first session.</p><p>So, naturally, she decides that now’s as good a time as any to ask Jemma about her previous self-defense experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleight of hand and twist of fate

 

May’s been here before, with Jemma. 

This isn’t new.

She’s been down in this very gym, watching the girl go through these very same pre-training jitters – bouncing on her toes, fiddling with her ponytail, picking at the label on her water bottle. It’s how May had spent every single morning for the two weeks before Jemma had shipped off to her Hydra op.

So this is all a bit surreal, really, finding herself back in this position.

But Jemma had insisted on being trained in combat,  _properly this time, May_ , and so here they are.

As sickening as that fortnight had been, as heavily as it had weighed upon the both of them, things feel even more high-stakes now. May can see it in Jemma’s posture, in the hard lines of her tensed shoulders. The look on her face is one of grim determination, which is not an expression May would have believed Jemma Simmons capable of producing a year ago.

She knows she has to say something to put the girl at ease, or else it’ll be a useless session, and a useless session will only stress her out even further at this point. Normally, this would be a pretty daunting task; after all, if Fitz can’t even calm her down half the time, what hope does May have?

But Melinda May has been sitting on a trump card.

And today?

She’s going to use it.

‘You’ve had self-defense training before,’ she states into the silence of the room, completely without preamble. Jemma jumps at the sudden noise – just barely, but enough for May’s stomach to lurch at the sight – before quickly composing herself.

(Smoothly averting her eyes, May busies herself with strapping her wrists. She’s learnt that Jemma only clams up further after outwardly showing any sign that she’s not coping well. It’s better when she believes no one saw her ‘slip-up.’) 

When May looks up again, Jemma’s staring right back, her face fixed in a deep, confused frown.

‘Yes…  _you_ , trained me? Right before I…’ she sighs deeply, shaking her head a little as though to clear it. ‘I’m sorry, is this a trick question?’

And May has to hand it to her, she really does, because the kid couldn’t lie for _anything_  a year ago. She’d outright refused to let her perceived weakness  _be_ a weakness, and in true Jemma Simmons fashion, she’d worked on it until it became a strength. In fact, she was so good at it now that May could almost be convinced that the girl truly doesn’t suspect a thing.

But Jemma has a tell: she can’t keep a single emotion out of her eyes.

So May  _knows_  that Jemma has her suspicions. The familiar knowing spark in the back of her gaze gives her away completely.

(Besides, even if May didn’t know Jemma’s tell, May knows  _Jemma_. The kid would have been dreading the day this came to light, ever since she first joined the team. They’d all been through hell recently, but even so, May knows Jemma Simmons won’t have completely forgotten about it.) 

But she’s happy enough to play along, if this is what it takes to get the girl to relax a little.

‘Before,’ she clarifies.

‘Before,’ Jemma repeats on an exhalation, raising her eyebrows at the sheer enormity of what the word encompasses.

(May can relate.)

‘Um. Yes, actually,’ she finally confesses. She laughs nervously, tucking a few escaped tendrils of hair behind one ear. ‘Gosh, I’d almost forgotten. It was an awfully long time ago, though. I was only fifteen.’

May looks at her expectantly, awaiting the rest of story. Jemma looks genuinely surprised at her willingness to listen.

(Her expression makes May silently vow to go and talk to the rest of team about their interactions with Jemma, because the grateful surprise etched onto her face is positively  _heartwrenching_.)

‘My mum was worried about me going to America alone. She knew how much I wanted to do it, and I’m  _sure_  she would have allowed me to go anyway, but she was just…’

Jemma trails off, shaking her head a little with a soft laugh.

‘She was so stressed. I remember thinking, “has she actually  _met_  any English boys? I’m in far more danger over here.” But I think it was probably the guns in America that frightened her. Which, in hindsight, she might have been on to something.’

She looks up, face self-deprecating, as though she’s trying to gauge whether or not May wants her to continue. As though she still can’t quite believe someone wants to listen.

_Shit._

Trying to keep the soft concern off her face, May nods in what she hopes is an encouraging manner. The corners of Jemma’s mouth tug up appreciatively in response.

‘So I did a quick course covering all the basics. Not sure it made her feel much better about it all, but it was worth a shot, right?’

May mulls over this for a moment, deciding that the story is quite befitting of the young woman standing before her. She can almost picture it: young, bright-eyed Jemma Simmons, full of bubbling enthusiasm and idealistic determination, hell-bent on proving to her parents that she was up to the task.

It’s a buoying thought.

Still. There’s no way Jemma doesn’t know what May’s getting at yet. Mixed in with the nostalgia and wistfulness of her gaze is the phantom weight of _knowledge_. She’s been evading this incredibly well.

May  _will_  get her to confess to this one. After all, hearing this story had been the very moment she’d known, for sure, that choosing Jemma for the team had been the right call.

‘Ever get to use it?’ May asks innocently.

Jemma visibly blanches.

_Gotcha._

‘Well,’ she begins feebly, ‘I’m not sure the word “use” is really appropriate in this context…’

She trails off as she notices the look on May’s face.

‘You know about my field assessment,’ Jemma confirms, eyes widening in horror.

May’s fighting down a smirk by this point.

‘I  _did_  have a lot of opportunities to read your file.’

One of Jemma’s hands hovers above her mouth, as though she hasn’t quite decided if she wants to hide her face away or not.

‘How much do you know, exactly?’

‘Enough.’

The girl takes a deep breath, eyes still frantic.

‘In my defense, I was simply responding to the scenario with which Agent Johnson provided me. He asked me how I’d react when trapped alone and confronted with an assailant. Now, I’ll concede that I  _was_  a tad nervous, but honestly, all I could think about was that self-defense course, and those open-hand punches they showed me how to do. And that’s precisely what I would have used in that situation. So I… demonstrated,’ she finishes weakly, losing her momentum by the end.

May’s eyebrows are raised, incredulous.

‘I was responding to the scenario,’ Jemma insists, eyes wide.

‘Jemma. You broke his nose.’

‘I helped him set it afterwards!’ she argues.

May doesn’t even know to respond to that. 

‘Besides, my role on this team has a lot more to do with administering medical aid than partaking in physical combat, so  _really_ , an argument could be made that I  _had_ , in fact, proven myself worthy of being in the field.’

The girl’s face splits into a satisfied smile at her own logic. May just sighs, but it’s softer than her usual sighs.

Only Jemma Simmons. 

She decides to throw her a bone. After all, the girl’s been waiting on tenterhooks for over a year now. 

‘For what it’s worth,’ May begins, one corner of her mouth perilously close to a smile. ‘I would have passed you for that alone.’

Jemma’s grin becomes nearly blinding. ‘Yeah?’

‘Coulson, too. It’s one of his favourite stories.’

'Oh, gosh,' she half-laughs, breathlessly embarrassed. Then, another thought seems to occur to her out of nowhere. The proud grin runs from her face almost as quickly as it had appeared.

May feels her stomach sink.

‘Please don’t tell Fitz,’ Jemma gushes, her words all running together.

That’s… unexpected. May raises an eyebrow in question.

Jemma winces.

‘I’m reasonably certain that it’s the only reason we didn’t pass our field exams. They…’ she’s wringing her hands together now, ‘They’d already considered us a unit back then, and I think they were grading us together as a result, and from what I understand, Fitz did really,  _really_  well. I’d hate for him to feel I was dragging him down, or…’ she trails off, venturing a cautious glance up at May’s face.

The idea that  _this_ , of all the stupidly risky and heroic acts Jemma has committed since that day, would be the thing to upset Fitz was truly laughable. In fact, May’s positive that he’d actually get a real kick out of the story.

But Melinda May will lay down her life before she intervenes in the Fitzsimmons relationship at this point in time – especially now, when they’re finally,  _painstakingly_ , working things out.

So she nods – just the once, but it’s enough for most of the tension to blessedly run out of Jemma’s shoulders. May could almost slump down in relief.

Inclining her head towards the mats, she looks a question at Jemma.

_Ready?_

With a small smile, Jemma nods and does her little skipping jog thing across the room. Jesus. If May were Jemma’s mother, she’d probably be put at ease by the girl knowing self-defense, too.

Although, that’s a large part of the reason they’re both down in the gym this early, she supposes.

Before Jemma gets too far, May thinks of one last thing. 

‘Should I be worried?’ she deadpans across the room. Jemma turns back around.

‘Sorry?’

‘You seem to be making a habit of assaulting superior officers.’

Jemma mouth makes a silent  _oh_  as she realises what May’s insinuating. Then, a cheeky grin spreads across her face – the likes of which May hasn’t seen in months.

It’s  _spectacular_.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry. As I understand it, Coulson got rid of the clearance levels. So, technically, you’re not even my superior officer anymore.’

The look she gives May is so genuinely pleased that May struggles to keep the relief off her face.

But she manages.

(Oh, how she manages.)

Jemma’s smug smile slowly fades at the lethal look in May’s eyes.

‘… I’m about to pay for that in ways I can’t even imagine, aren’t I.’

One last glance at the older woman’s unmoving face gives Jemma all the answer she needs.

‘Right.’

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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